“No.” He says honestly, forcing a smile as a sheen of tears fills his eyes. There you are, standing in the doorway of the gym. “Are you okay?” You ask before he has a chance to say anything. He turns, and it isn’t a trick of his imagination. “Hey Tooru.” He comes to a stop at the sound of your voice, the ball he’d been meaning to toss in the air rolling across the court, forgotten. Maybe if he does this long enough it will make him numb. Serve after serve goes over the net, the resounding thwack of ball on court reverberating through his entire body. Later that evening, he’s alone in the gym. He shakes his head and turns to catch up with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. It seems he’s doing a lot of that lately.Īs he leaves the locker room, he half-expects you to be standing there off to the side, ready to open your arms and invite him in. He looks around at his teammates, each of them putting on their bravest face, and he can’t help but feel as though he’s let them down. Still, in the end, everything he’s done, the countless hours of practice, the unrelenting focus on volleyball - none of it is enough. He doesn’t let any of it get in the way of the match. Quickly, he turns away and jogs back to the court before you can notice him looking. Everything he’s felt and tried not to feel over the past month comes crashing over him. As nonchalantly as possible, he glances into the stands. Right before the match against Karasuno, Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa aside for a moment. “Hey, did you see that Y/N just showed up?” He hadn’t. That’s especially important with the Spring tournament looming closer and closer. Now he can focus everything on volleyball. That’s what brought him to today, the moment when he knows you have finally gave up on him. Maybe he is a little bit fixated on you, and maybe that really is holding him back. He has no idea how you can tell, because he always thinks he hides it so well. The way you still insist on hugging him when you can sense that he’s feeling down. The stupid jokes you always make that only you find hilarious. Were they right? He knows that jealousy had to be their main motivation, but he couldn’t help wondering if there was some truth in their words. All he knows is that for the rest of the evening at your house, their words kept playing in his head. He doesn’t even remember, anymore, what he said in response. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he laughed. I mean, I get that you were childhood friends, but you’ve grown up a lot since then. “It’s just…” The third girl took a step closer to him, tipping her chin down and biting on her lip. “We really think that she’s holding you back. “Please, just listen.” The first spoke again. “It’s about Y/N.” He was so surprised to hear your name leave her mouth that he came to a full stop. “Now now.” He waved his hand. “No need for that.” “We’re worried about you.” The second girl chimed in. You know how his fangirls are - all you do is roll your eyes and shake your head. “Sure, what’s up?” He was supposed to meet up with you to study at your house, but he knew you wouldn’t mind waiting just a few minutes longer. He recognized them from the sidelines of most of his matches, and he pasted on his most charming smile. “Can we talk to you?” “Oikawa-kun.” He was met by a group of three girls leaving practice that day almost a month ago. “Don’t worry about it, Oikawa-kun.” You used to call him Tooru. “Y/N, I’m so sorry!” The smile you give him is small and tight. Before he can avoid it, his elbow catches on your shoulder. Maybe that’s what makes him subconsciously gravitate toward you. He’s still acutely aware of your presence, though, even if he tries his hardest to ignore it. Now, almost a month later, he barely even feels the pang in his chest when he passes you in the hallway and you don’t even bother to look in his direction. The first time, it took everything Oikawa had in him to walk past you without a glance. So, this turned out a bit different than your request but I think it still fits! This is what I’ve been thinking about all day :’) Angst and Fem reader ahead.
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